All Chapters of Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By The Lycan king : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

CYNTHIA’S POVThe cold mountain air bit into the raw, blistering burns along my arms, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the roaring heat inside my skull.I scrambled up through the narrow stone escape tunnel, my boots slipping against wet granite, my fingers clawing at the frozen dirt. Ash clung to my wet cloak, and the scent of singed hair and burnt flesh filled my nose—my own flesh.Frail. Weak. Useless, a dark, raspy voice hissed inside my mind.It wasn't my voice. It was the whisper of the raw obsidian elixir I had swallowed weeks ago, a black sludge that pooled in the bottom of my stomach like liquid lead. It constantly twisted my thoughts, turning every breath into a bitter, burning knot of rage.Zaria.Always Zaria. My mind kept flashing back to the image of her standing in front of that glowing silver altar, bathed in light like a goddess, while I cowered on the floor like a dog.It wasn't fair. We had grown up in the same pack halls. I was the one who studied the

ZARIA'S POV Following the hidden valley track, Vanya led us deep into a narrow, stone-walled gorge that wasn't marked on any map. The high cliffs blocked the harsh wind, but the path was tight and shadowed, winding deeper into the untouched heart of the mountains.After an hour of quiet marching, the narrow pass opened up into a wide, snow-covered basin.Clustered beneath the shelter of the high rock walls was a small, rugged village built from rough logs, dry stone, and heavy animal hides. Smoke curled lazily from a dozen stone chimneys, and the smell of roasting roots and wood fires drifted through the cold air.This was a settlement of unregistered omega outcasts—wolves who had fled Rowan’s brutal laws and heavy taxes years ago, hiding in total isolation where no pack king could find them.The moment our group entered the village, the quiet streets went deathly still. Women quickly pulled their children inside heavy pine doors, and a dozen men stepped forward holding wooden huntin

ZARIA'S POVThe icy water in the underground pipe came up to our knees, but no one made a sound. We moved in a quiet, single line through the dark stone aqueduct, guided only by the soft, warm light of my silver magic.I kept my aura pulled tight against my skin, using its warmth to mask our scent and quiet the splash of our boots against the stream. Directly above us, through thick granite floorboards, we could hear the heavy, muffled thud of Cynthia's guards pacing across the outer courtyard. They were completely focused on the main gates and the high mountain road, expecting a noisy army to attack from the front. They had no idea four people were already walking through their basement.Vanya reached the end of the stone pipe first, where a rusted iron grate opened into the lower cellars. She pulled a pair of heavy iron shears from her coat, slipped them between the rusted bars, and cut through the metal with two quiet, controlled snaps.She pushed the grate open, slid through the g

ZARIA'S POV The dark grey dust kept pouring from the high wall vents in thick, steady streams, tumbling through the cold air like a heavy soot storm. Every time Cassian or Lucius tried to pull a deep breath into their lungs, the bitter chemical powder choked them, turning their skin pale and damp with sweat.My silver aura flared outward, expanding into a soft, glowing dome that surrounded our small group. The moment the dark obsidian dust hit the edge of my silver light, the powder sizzled softly, burning away into fine white ash before it could touch Cassian or my mother. I kept my feet planted firm on the cold floorboards, pushing my magic to its absolute limit to keep a ten-foot pocket of clean, clear air alive inside the sealed stone cell."I can hold this shield up," I said, my voice tight as sweat dripped down my temple from the effort. "But I can't hold it forever. We need a way out of this hallway right now."Cassian leaned against the stone wall behind me, keeping one arm w

ZARIA'S POV The cold rain slashed across our faces in relentless, heavy sheets as our four horses tore along the muddy mountain ridge.Every stride was a gamble. The trail was barely wider than a wagon wheel, slick with wet clay and loose gravel that sloped down into a sheer five-hundred-foot drop into the black canyon below. But we didn't slow down. We couldn't.By two in the morning, the heavy physical toll of the ride began to set in. My legs ached from clamping against the saddle, my muscles stiff from the freezing cold, and my leather gloves were soaked through, freezing my fingers straight to the reins. Right beside me, Cassian rode with his eyes glued to the dark path ahead, his broad shoulders squared against the howling wind. Every few minutes, his golden gaze would cut over to me through the dark, checking my posture, watching for any sign of exhaustion or faltering."Hold the line, Zaria!" Cassian shouted over the thunder, his deep voice cutting through the roar of the win